Songs out of Doors Part 9

But not for thee the closing of the door, O Spirit unconfined!

Thy ways are free As is the wandering wind, And thou hast wooed thy children, to restore Their fellows.h.i.+p with thee, In peace of soul and simpleness of mind.

IV

Joyful the heart that, when the flood rolled by, Leaped up to see the rainbow in the sky; And glad the pilgrim, in the lonely night, For whom the hills of Haran, tier on tier, Built up a secret stairway to the height Where stars like angel eyes were s.h.i.+ning clear.

From mountain-peaks, in many a land and age, Disciples of the Persian seer Have hailed the rising sun and wors.h.i.+pped thee; And wayworn followers of the Indian sage Have found the peace of G.o.d beneath a spreading tree.

V

But One, but One,--ah, Son most dear, And perfect image of the Love Unseen,-- Walked every day in pastures green, And all his life the quiet waters by, Reading their beauty with a tranquil eye.

To him the desert was a place prepared For weary hearts to rest; The hillside was a temple blest; The gra.s.sy vale a banquet-room Where he could feed and comfort many a guest.

With him the lily shared The vital joy that breathes itself in bloom; And every bird that sang beside the nest Told of the love that broods o'er every living thing.

He watched the shepherd bring His flock at sundown to the welcome fold, The fisherman at daybreak fling His net across the waters gray and cold, And all day long the patient reaper swing His curving sickle through the harvest gold.

So through the world the foot-path way he trod, Breathing the air of heaven in every breath; And in the evening sacrifice of death Beneath the open sky he gave his soul to G.o.d.

Him will I trust, and for my Master take; Him will I follow; and for his dear sake, G.o.d of the open air, To thee I make my prayer.

VI

From the prison of anxious thought that greed has builded, From the fetters that envy has wrought and pride has gilded, From the noise of the crowded ways and the fierce confusion, From the folly that wastes its days in a world of illusion, (Ah, but the life is lost that frets and languishes there!) I would escape and be free in the joy of the open air.

By the breadth of the blue that s.h.i.+nes in silence o'er me, By the length of the mountain-lines that stretch before me, By the height of the cloud that sails, with rest in motion, Over the plains and the vales to the measureless ocean, (Oh, how the sight of the greater things enlarges the eyes!) Draw me away from myself to the peace of the hills and skies.

While the tremulous leafy haze on the woodland is spreading, And the bloom on the meadow betrays where May has been treading; While the birds on the branches above, and the brooks flowing under, Are singing together of love in a world full of wonder, (Lo, in the magic of Springtime, dreams are changed into truth!) Quicken my heart, and restore the beautiful hopes of youth.

By the faith that the wild-flowers show when they bloom unbidden, By the calm of the river's flow to a goal that is hidden, By the strength of the tree that clings to its deep foundation, By the courage of birds' light wings on the long migration, (Wonderful spirit of trust that abides in Nature's breast!) Teach me how to confide, and live my life, and rest.

For the comforting warmth of the sun that my body embraces, For the cool of the waters that run through the shadowy places, For the balm of the breezes that brush my face with their fingers, For the vesper-hymn of the thrush when the twilight lingers, For the long breath, the deep breath, the breath of a heart without care,-- I will give thanks and adore thee, G.o.d of the open air!

VII

These are the gifts I ask Of thee, Spirit serene: Strength for the daily task, Courage to face the road, Good cheer to help me bear the traveller's load, And, for the hours of rest that come between, An inward joy in all things heard and seen.

These are the sins I fain Would have thee take away: Malice, and cold disdain, Hot anger, sullen hate, Scorn of the lowly, envy of the great, And discontent that casts a shadow gray On all the brightness of the common day.

These are the things I prize And hold of dearest worth: Light of the sapphire skies, Peace of the silent hills, Shelter of forests, comfort of the gra.s.s, Music of birds, murmur of little rills, Shadows of cloud that swiftly pa.s.s, And, after showers, The smell of flowers And of the good brown earth,-- And best of all, along the way, friends.h.i.+p and mirth.

So let me keep These treasures of the humble heart In true possession, owning them by love; And when at last I can no longer move Among them freely, but must part From the green fields and from the waters clear, Let me not creep Into some darkened room and hide From all that makes the world so bright and dear; But throw the windows wide To welcome in the light; And while I clasp a well-beloved hand, Let me once more have sight Of the deep sky and the far-smiling land,-- Then gently fall on sleep, And breathe my body back to Nature's care, My spirit out to thee, G.o.d of the open air.

1904.

IV

WAYFARING PSALMS IN PALESTINE

THE DISTANT ROAD

Blessed is the man that beholdeth the face of a friend in a far country, The darkness of his heart is melted by the dawning of day within him,

It is like the sound of a sweet music heard long ago and half forgotten: It is like the coming back of birds to a wood when the winter is ended.

I knew not the sweetness of the fountain till I found it flowing in the desert, Nor the value of a friend till we met in a land that was crowded and lonely.

The mult.i.tude of mankind had bewildered me and oppressed me, And I complained to G.o.d, Why hast thou made the world so wide?

But when my friend came the wideness of the world had no more terror, Because we were glad together among men to whom we were strangers.

It seemed as if I had been reading a book in a foreign language, And suddenly I came upon a page written in the tongue of my childhood.

This was the gentle heart of my friend who quietly understood me, The open and loving heart whose meaning was clear without a word.

O thou great Companion who carest for all thy pilgrims and strangers, I thank thee heartily for the comfort of a comrade on the distant road.

THE WELCOME TENT

This is the thanksgiving of the weary, The song of him that is ready to rest.

It is good to be glad when the day is declining, And the setting of the sun is like a word of peace.

The stars look kindly on the close of a journey, The tent says welcome when the day's march is done.

For now is the time of the laying down of burdens, And the cool hour cometh to them that have borne the heat.

I have rejoiced greatly in labour and adventure; My heart hath been enlarged in the spending of my strength.

Now it is all gone, yet I am not impoverished, For thus only I inherit the treasure of repose.

Blessed be the Lord that teacheth my fingers to loosen, And cooleth my feet with water after the dust of the way.

Blessed be the Lord that giveth me hunger at nightfall, And filleth my evening cup with the wine of good cheer.

Blessed be the Lord that maketh me happy to be quiet, Even as a child that cometh softly to his mother's lap.

O G.o.d, thy strength is never worn away with labour: But it is good for us to be weary and receive thy gift of rest.

THE GREAT CITIES